


never for the last time

by unprofessionalbard



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Balance - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Post-Finale, Slow Dancing, mildly suggestive but nothing happens in text, taako makes a bone joke though, there's no plot just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unprofessionalbard/pseuds/unprofessionalbard
Summary: It's nice to have quiet days sometimes.Days where they’re up early and Taako hums along with the radio while he cooks breakfast. Where Kravitz leans against the counter while Taako asks him to pass something or hold something. Where neither of them have anywhere to be other than here. A small break in their busy lives; unplanned and beautiful.





	never for the last time

Quiet mornings are something of a rarity around here. 

Taako isn’t much of a quiet person, for starters. And because neither he nor Kravitz needs to sleep, mornings lack the dragged out, half asleep atmosphere that comes from a bleary eyed start to a day. 

Mostly, though, it’s because there’s just so many people around. Almost everyone in what’s now something of an odd, extended family feels welcome to knock on their doors or call or text whenever— Taako complains a bit for show, but Kravitz knows he doesn’t mind it. 

But it’s nice to have days like this sometimes. 

Days where they’re up early and Taako hums along with the radio while he cooks breakfast. Where Kravitz leans against the counter while Taako asks him to pass something or hold something. Where neither of them have anywhere to be other than here. A small break in their busy lives; unplanned and beautiful. 

Kravitz studies the freckles between Taako’s shoulder blades as Taako works, his gaze drifting back up to Taako’s face after a few moments. Taako hasn’t bothered to put a shirt on, although he has thrown his hair up into a messy bun and put on an apron. An old Candlenights gift from Lup, it’s a gaudy blue with the text “HOLY SHIT I’M HUNGOVER” in sparkly gold. It should look horrible with the red and black checkered pajama pants he has on, but somehow— like everything he wears —Taako makes it work. He brushes a stray bit of hair behind his ear and Kravitz follows the movement with his eyes. 

Taako’s brow knits when he’s concentrating. The music gets to the chorus and Taako switches from humming to muttering the words under his breath, barely loud enough to be caught above the music. 

Kravitz could probably stand here and watch him forever. 

“Krav, can you hand me the— the—” Taako shifts to hold the bowl of eggs in the crook of his elbow. He’s unwilling to stop whisking so he points with the hand still holding onto the bowl in the general direction of a couple other bowls.

“The…” prompts Kravitz, pushing up the sleeves of the long sleeve shirt he’s wearing (it’s from Taako’s drawer, but it’s so big Kravitz suspects it used to belong to someone else at one point) and hovering his hand over a dish of red peppers.

“No, over, the other—” Taako waves his hand even more vaguely, and Kravitz moves his hand to a cup of grated cheese. “Yes! That. The cheese. Can you just like, uh— dump it in this bowl here? Thanks.”

Kravitz does what he’s asked, and then rushes to step back as Taako instantly starts moving around again. Several times, he’s almost afraid Taako will drop the bowl. He can almost imagine what Taako would say in response to that worry (“Really, Kravitz? I’m a professional, you don’t think I know what I’m fucking doing here? That I can’t whisk some eggs?”), so he doesn’t voice it, just stands back and watches Taako work his metaphorical magic. 

Taako only seems to stop busying around once the omelette is the pan. He puts a lid on it and lets the tension out of his shoulders before he stretches like he’s got up just now rather than half an hour ago. His nose scrunches up when he yawns.

“Good morning,” he says, sounding for all the world like this is the first thing he’s said to Kravitz since he woke up. 

“Morning,” replies Kravitz, half speech, half laughter. Taako spares another glance at his pan before leaving it entirely and closing the distance between him and Kravitz. He’s still humming to the radio, and now that he’s not cooking, about half his energy seems to have disappeared. He's sleepy, relaxed, his grin when he looks at Kravitz is lazy and slow. 

Kravitz wraps a hand around Taako’s waist. His free hand lightly traces down Taako’s arm until he interlaces his fingers with Taako’s. Taako’s other hand moves to rest on Kravitz’s forearm, and he presses a kiss to Kravitz’s jawline before he leans against Kravitz. When he hums now, Kravitz can feel the vibrations against his chest— although after a minute, the feeling is disrupted by Taako laughing.

“What?”

“Are we dancing now?”

They are if you call swaying back and forth on the spot dancing. Kravitz hadn’t noticed he’d started doing it. For a second, he’s self-conscious and tries to stop— but Taako won’t let him, although he does move back slightly to look at Kravitz. 

“Okay, babe, the correct answer was ‘yes’, so let’s give that another shot.”

Kravitz laughs, pulling Taako close again until his forehead touches Taako’s, swaying with slightly more rhythm than before.

“This isn’t really dancing. Not a lot of form.”

“Oh, I see. You have a routine you wanna do instead?”

“I don’t think you can do a waltz to this.” It’s slow, pop-y love song that Kravitz has heard a couple times just by proxy, but not one he’s ever looked for. “It’s nice, though.”

“Excuses, excuses,” hums Taako, and Kravitz laughs, adjusting his hands to be a little less embrace and a little more ballroom dance. He straightens his posture so his forehead is no longer touching Taako’s, although he’s unwilling to put even the couple inches of distance between the two of them that would make this proper dancing. 

“Back with your left foot then,” he says, and Taako laughs too, moving his hand to Kravitz’s shoulder and stepping with him as he leads, roughly in time with the music. The steps are messy and stepping in time is hardly above swaying, but Taako is giggling and Kravitz can’t keep the smile off his face. 

When the second verse starts, Taako sings a few lines of the song, really sings them. Even though Kravitz has heard him sing before, it’s still so gorgeous that it takes Kravitz off guard enough for him to trip over his own feet. Taako breaks into another round of giggles as Kravitz rights himself and falls back into step. 

“Oh, nice one. Very smooth.”

“You should sing more often.” 

It’s Taako’s turn to be caught off guard; his ears shoot straight up and his mouth parts in surprise before he smiles. “Flattery can’t get you everywhere, my man.”

“Tell me, Taako, where would I be using flattery to go that I haven’t already been?” 

Taako actually splutters for a second, before narrowing his eyes and saying, “Shut the fuck up.” Kravitz laughs, and laughs more when he sees how desperately Taako is trying to hold onto indignance— it doesn’t hold up for much longer. It’s only a few seconds before Taako smiles again, and only a few moments before he’s humming again.

They must look ridiculous. Taako in his apron and pajama pants, Kravitz in his too big shirt (that may or may not even be his boyfriend’s) and polka dot boxers, doing messy dance steps (if you could even call them that) off time to a pop song that clearly was not made for this kind of dancing. It’s more funny than romantic— and yet, Kravitz feels like his chest is so full it could overflow. 

“Do you think I could spin you?” says Taako, pulling Kravitz out of his thoughts.

“What?” responds Kravitz, but it turns out that was more of a warning than a question, because Taako’s already slipped out of the hand around his waist and let go of Kravitz’s shoulder, tugging the hand intertwined with Kravitz’s over Kravitz’s head. Kravitz lets himself be dragged into a spin that is, somehow, even messier than the rest of this dance; he’s lucky he keeps his footing at all. Then Taako pulls his arm— and Kravitz’s arm with it— down too fast, knocking Kravitz on the side of the head.

“Oh shit—” 

But Kravitz is already laughing, so Taako laughs too. When Kravitz is facing him again, Taako pulls him in, putting his arms around Kravitz’s shoulders and locking his hands together behind Kravitz’s neck. Kravitz wraps his arms around Taako’s waist again and Taako leans into him (or he leans into Taako, or maybe both). They’re back to swaying, out of time. The sunlight, still the soft yellow-orange of early morning, lights up the side of Taako’s face. 

“I love you,” says Kravitz. 

Kravitz has said so many, many times before, and he plans to say it many, many times more. But somehow, Taako always, for a second, widens his eyes and perks his ears up like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s always replaced very quickly with a smug, lazy smile, but Kravitz isn’t fooled. 

“I love you too.” Taako’s smile loses its smugness and just becomes bright and genuine. And then he leans in, his lips warm on Kravitz’s. Kravitz can feel him smiling and it makes him smile too, and then Taako pulls away, drawing in a quick breath before continuing, “Even if you’re wearing Magnus’s shirt.” 

Oh, he _knew_ this wasn’t Taako’s shirt. 

“It’s from your drawer!” He tries to sounds irritated, he really does, but Taako has already burst out laughing again, and damn him, it’s very endearing. “Why do you even have it, then?”

“Took it ages ago. It’s comfy. Magnus gave up on getting it back.”

“So it’s yours now. So you’re giving me shit for nothing.”

“Well…” Taako’s grin looks like it could split his face in two if it got any bigger. “I just think it’s hard to kiss my boyfriend while he’s wearing my friend’s shirt.” Taako twists the back of Kravitz’s shirt collar in his hands. 

“What do you want me to do, take it o—” _Oh._ Oh! Oh, Kravitz is stupid.

“Got it in one.” Taako is still smiling, but his eyes are flickering all over Kravitz’s face, trying to make sure Kravitz’s embarrassment doesn’t mean discomfort.

“That can probably be arranged,” says Kravitz, and leans back in for another kiss. Taako responds instantly, and just as enthusiastically. His hands slide down Kravitz’s torso and slip under the hem of Kravitz’s shirt; Kravitz fumbles with the knot on Taako’s apron. 

He’s about halfway done untying it when the smoke detector goes off.

“Shit—” Taako breaks the kiss, peeling away from Kravitz in seconds. “—The eggs are gonna fuckin’ burn— fuck— FUCK—” He picks up the pan and moves it off the burner, trying to decide whether or not the eggs are salvageable. The alarm just keeps going off, and Kravitz is only distracted from it when Taako throws a dish towel at him (which he does not catch, but thankfully Taako is too busy with his cooking to make fun of how he had to scramble not to drop it). “Krav, can you just wave that under the detector, it should just turn off—”

“Doesn’t it have an off button?” Nevertheless, he waves the towel under the smoke detector. Even if there was an off button, Kravitz would barely be able to reach it on the tips of his toes— wait. 

Is Taako just… too short to reach it?

“Listen, Kravitz,” Taako’s voice is trying to be effortlessly breezy but isn’t quite nailing the ‘effortless’ part, and he’s not looking up at Kravitz as he inspects his cooking. “Why would it matter if that works just as well, hmm? Why does it matter?” 

Taako is _definitely_ just too short to reach it. Kravitz smiles to himself and the smoke detector lets out one final beep before shutting off. Kravitz relaxes, draping the towel over his shoulder, and Taako puts his pan down on one of the unused burners. There’s a moment of silence— save for the radio, still playing away in the corner— where Taako breathes like he’s just run a marathon. 

“Breakfast is ready,” he says, and gives a lopsided grin. Another moment of silence, and then Kravitz can’t help it; he starts laughing. And once he starts, he can’t stop. Taako is laughing too, and they don’t stop until they’re completely out of breath. 

_I love you,_ thinks Kravitz, and he can’t think of a single reason not to say so out loud, so he does. Taako does it again, the slight surprise in his expression, the flick of his ears, followed quickly by a smile. Kravitz bites his tongue before he blurts out the third _‘I love you’_ of the morning. 

“Uh, me too, but just so you know,” Taako reaches up to a cabinet above the stove and pulls down two plates. “if you tell anyone about this, uh, incident, we’ll have to break up and I have to start a rumor that discredits you in some way because I just can’t have you tarnishing my reputation as a master chef.” 

“My lips are sealed.”

Taako laughs, dishing them both plates. He steals another kiss from Kravitz when he hands off his omelette, and then jumps to sit on the counter, feet dangling over the side. Kravitz laughs too, and grabs a chair from the nearby table, turning it around so he can face Taako. Taako’s already digging in. 

“I was gonna apologize for possibly burning it but it still tastes good as fuck and I never doubted me for a second. Fuck yeah.” 

Kravitz hums before trying his own omelette. It does taste good. Not that he was expecting it to be bad; he never doubted Taako for a second either. Even with the smoke detector fiasco. It’s a couple seconds of being lost in his own thoughts before Kravitz notices Taako staring at him. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Taako laughs. “You just look really good.” He tilts his head and smiles. And maybe Kravitz is a little guilty of being surprised at this kind of declaration too, because he uses his free hand in a fruitless attempt to cover up his face, as though he can stop Taako from seeing how flustered he is. Taako laughs again. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

Taako launches into talking about his plans for later that week, a funny story Ren told him yesterday, general chatter about what’s going on in his life. Kravitz chimes in with his own stories, with a question Barry asked him to pass along (Kravitz is delighted to find he’d actually beat Lup to asking it), and together they talk as the sun creeps higher in the sky. Kravitz volunteers to do the dishes, but Taako won’t let him do them by himself, no matter how many times Kravitz insists that Taako cooked, so he can clean (Taako claims it’s because Kravitz won’t put them back in the right spot, but he’s not fooling anyone).

Taako dries off the last dish and puts it back in place before gasping and widening his eyes in a way that is _clearly_ exaggerated. 

“Damn.” There is way too much mirth in his voice for there to be anything actually wrong, but Kravitz responds anyway, raising an eyebrow as he does so. 

“What is it?”

“After all that you’re still wearing your shirt.”

“Oh my god.” Kravitz covers his face again, letting out a breathy laugh.

“You love me.”

“You know I do.” Kravitz’s voice is muffled from his hands, but he peeks out through his fingers at Taako, who looks how Kravitz feels; flustered, caught off guard, but so, so content to be here. Taako wraps his hands around Kravitz’s, pulling them away from his face and lacing their fingers together. Then he’s kissing Kravitz again, and Kravitz takes a second to marvel at how this feeling— Taako so close to him, Taako loving him, being in love with Taako —just never gets old. How it’s not necessarily a constant falling in love, but more a quiet comfort. Kravitz kisses Taako like it’s the first time, like there’s a chance it’ll be the last, like he knows it won’t be. Like he’s sure he’ll kiss Taako again, and again, and again.

This— _Taako_ —feels like the sun. Warm and brilliant and eternal. 

Taako pulls away, only about an inch, and presses a kiss to the tip of Kravitz’s nose. “So it’s uh, it’s getting to be like, noon now. But I don’t have anywhere else to be. And I’d really like to go back to bed.”

Kravitz tilts his head. And smiles. And says, “I can’t think of anything better.” 

He pulls Taako in again, and then Taako’s arms are draped over his shoulders. They spend a couple seconds trying to navigate the kitchen without breaking apart, but Taako steers Kravitz right into the chair he sat on for breakfast. There’s a couple seconds of laughter, and then Kravitz hooks his arms under Taako’s legs, muttering, “Jump, I can carry you,” against his lips. Taako laughs, and then does what he’s asked, wrapping his legs around Kravitz’s waist and his arms around Kravitz’s neck. They’ve almost made it out of the kitchen when Taako breaks the kiss, grinning. 

“Also, don’t think I didn’t see you miss that dish towel when I threw it. Because I definitely did.”

Kravitz lets out a sigh. “Well, I think I better head into work—”

Taako locks his ankles together around Kravitz’s waist and clutches tighter to Kravitz’s neck. “Haha. Nice try, my dude, but you can keep walking us right the fuck back to bed.” 

“Only on one condition.” Kravitz pauses, and Taako raises his eyebrows. “You drop that apron before we leave the kitchen because it absolutely should not follow us.” 

Taako laughs, letting go of Kravitz’s shoulders to untie the knot of the apron. Kravitz adjusts his grip to make sure he doesn’t drop Taako as Taako ducks out of the top loop of the apron, dropping it on the floor beside them before leaning back in, draping his arms over Kravitz’s shoulders again. 

“Time to bone down.”

“ _Please_ stop saying that.”

“Not a chance.” 

Taako kisses him, and Kravitz feels like he knows what forever feels like, that it feels like this. That it feels like a chest about to burst, like the midday sun shining in through the blinds. Like Taako’s lips on his, over, and over again, never, ever for the last time.

And he is so, so in love. 

Taako smiles into the kiss, not for the first time, definitely not for the last, and Kravitz also knows that forever feels like Taako loving him back.

**Author's Note:**

> im gay and i dont know how to proofread. also i was listening to a 90's playlist when i wrote this i personally had the song [ truly, madly, deeply](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQnAxOQxQIU) in mind but like. i was vague so you could think of whatever u wanted. choose ur own pop-y love song.
> 
> also do we have to tag this stuff as balance now?? i did anyway rip whatever
> 
> anyway come talk to me on [tumblr](http://crewmanjeeter.tumblr.com) bc im basically running a taz fan blog at this point, also thanks for reading ilu


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